The Callow Collision
by Slivering
Summary: Echizen Ryoma had a very big problem: He had a crush on his best friend Momo who had a girlfriend named An. Unrequited love always did suck.


Title: The Callow Collision

Word Count: 2, 400

* * *

**THE CALLOW COLLISION**

* * *

Jealousy, Ryoma decided, was perfectly necessary.

If it weren't for jealousy, he wouldn't have a reason for crushing the empty Ponta Can into smithereens. He wouldn't have a reason for chucking it at the garbage can so hard it toppled the entire thing over. He wouldn't have a reason to be upset, and being upset over nothing was obviously stupid.

So jealousy was necessary.

"She _liked it!_" Momo beamed. "I knew it wouldn't be too cheesy!"

Ryoma's hand clenched tighter into a fist, and he searched feverishly for another can of Ponta to destroy. Or _maybe _he could go home, find a tennis ball, draw An's face on it, and whack it into a wall. He smirked at the thought, barely catching Momo's babbling about An and how amazing she was.

"Yo," Momo paused, face flushed and breathless. He had been talking for hours. "You've been quiet."

Ryoma pulled his cap down. His eyes flickered at the ground. "It's boring."

"It's boring?" Momo's brow furrowed.

"It's boring," Ryoma kicked at the ground with the scuff of his shoe. "To hear you talk about her all day, I mean."

The older boy's face morphed into confusion, before an understanding smile gleamed his way. He ruffled Ryoma's hair. "Right. You're only twelve, so you don't even care about girls yet. Gah, I probably bored you to death!" Momo grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, but she's just so amazing, I can't help but keep talking about her!"

A knot tightened in Ryoma's gut. "She can't even play _tennis,"_he heard himself scoff.

"Huh?" Momo shook his head. "No, she actually plays decently. I mean, yeah, she isn't close to as good as you or the regulars, but she _can _play. And even if she couldn't…" he paused, and hesitated. "It doesn't really matter. Our relationship isn't about tennis." The words stung in Ryoma's ears like a bell, and he forced a wry grin.

"I always thought Momo-senpai would go for someone like himself."

_I'm like you, aren't I? That's why we became friends in the first place._

"Well," Momo shrugged, and mussed his hair up again. "I just like her. It's not complicated."

Ryoma turned away from the fingers in his hair, and his teeth grinded against each other. He could feel himself losing his temper, but was determined to keep it under control until he got home. When he got home, he could take his math notebook and rip it to shreds. Because he was jealous. Of An. Of _all _people.

"You don't have to worry. You won't be a third wheel or anything."

Stupid Momo. Ryoma glared at him from under his cap. "Of course not."

Momo grinned. "You know what they say, bros before gals or whatever…"

"They never say that."

"Oh, well, you know what I mean."

No, he _didn't _know what he meant. Ryoma's face tightened, and he walked away from Momo. The sky was already golden, and his mother would be expecting him home soon. The heat sweltered in the air, thick even by dusk, so there wasn't really a point of just standing around and baking in the humidity. He would go home and kill his math notebook instead.

"Um, okay, whatever," Momo called after him. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

There was a pause, and Ryoma heard him mutter faintly, "And hopefully you'll be in a better mood."

Of course he wouldn't be in a better mood. Tomorrow, Momo was going to bring An to tennis practice, and introduce her properly to the rest of the regulars. With his luck, the regulars would fawn over her and kick him out of the team, insisting they needed some _female _assistance for the Nationals. And then they would convince the board to let girls in, because An was just that _special _and _important _compared to him.

Ryoma growled, and felt a spit of rain hit his nose. In a matter of seconds, it was pouring, and he was drenched from head to toe as he ran all the way home. Because _he _deserved to get soaked, while An was comfortable on her couch with Momo hogged all to herself. And Momo was a very warm person.

It really was unfair.

**=][=**

Home didn't offer much comfort. His mother and father were yelling at each other again (and it almost seemed serious, which worried Ryoma) and Karupin refused to take a bath. And with the way his world had been going, it was only fair that he left his math notebook at school too. So when the sky cleared from rain, Ryoma slipped on his sweater and made his way to the tennis courts.

The ground was damp, the sky overcast with hesitant strands of light. It wasn't the perfect weather, but Ryoma would deal with it. Because he d_ealt _with shit like this. That was his new _job._

"Echizen-kun!"

Ryoma's head snapped to the voice, and his face paled when he noticed An standing there. Her cheeks glowed, hair tangled from the rain. She held a tennis racket. Ryoma just looked at her, resisting the urge to punch her (she was girl, he just didn't have the conscience to do it) or threaten her to break up with Momo. He did neither, and instead stood there lamely.

"It's a surprise to see you here," she winked at him.

"Just felt like playing."

"Me too!"

An's jersey was soaked through, and her skin was moist. Ryoma was slightly impressed that she had played in the rain instead of shrieking and running for cover like every other girl he knew. But he still disliked her greatly. She had took _Momo _from him, and that was just plain cruel. Momo was his only close friend.

"You're Momo's best friend, aren't you?" An laughed. "He talks about you all the time! I'd think he was in love with you if he wasn't occupied with kissing me."

Ryoma's eyes flashed, and his hand tightened around his racket. He _was _Momo's best friend, but Momo didn't like him in that way at all. An was just giving him false hope, and then…they _kissed_? Since when? He'd only ever seen them hold hands, and that was enough to get him riled up. He swung his racket over his shoulder, and carefully avoided a puddle as he neared her.

"Wanna play a match?"

An's eyes widened. "With me?"

"Yes," Ryoma spoke sharply. He turned his back and strolled to the service line. "One-set."

When Ryoma turned around, he could see An's face, tinged with anxiety and excitement. After all, he was a good player, and she knew she didn't have a chance in beating him. It was merely the excitement of playing someone strong, and putting all your effort out in the open. But this game wasn't going to go like that.

"I'll serve," he said, face steady. He bent his knees and threw the ball into the air. An was unprepared for the ace that flew by her seconds later.

"15-0," Ryoma's jaw was set straight. An's eyes flickered.

The rest of the game was horror fused upon horror. Ryoma didn't give mercy, and the tennis ball jabbed the ground so swift and fast that An could do nothing but stand there. The game was _so _one-sided, played so harshly, that by the halfway point, An stood limp in the middle with pained eyes, not moving a muscle.

Ryoma played ruthlessly, and he felt oddly like Kirihara, even though he wasn't physically hurting An. He was playing to his full potential, _crushing _his opponent, making her feel worthless on the court. He never played like this unless he had to; if a player was lesser than him, he would play adequately, but not to the point of demeaning them.

"3-0," Ryoma's voice was as cold as ice. "Switch courts."

When he brushed by An, he could feel her trembling, eyes shadowed. "Let's not play anymore," she said, bottom lip quivering. Ryoma just glared at her, and she hastily made way to the other side. He lifted the ball to serve, and his eyes narrowed on An's figure on the middle of the court. With gritted teeth, he served fast and painful. The ball flicked a strand of An's hair, so close to her face, before it burned into the metal fence behind her.

An flinched.

"15-0," Ryoma said. Before he could lift the ball to serve again, a loud voice interrupted him.

"Echizen, what the _fuck _are you doing?" '

Ryoma froze. He whipped around to see Momo

The boy's face was flushed red, arms clenched at his sides, and Ryoma had never seen him look so angry before. He took a step backwards, startled by the fierce glare.

"_Well_?" Momo snapped. Ryoma swallowed, and looked at the ground. He didn't say a word, and Momo's attention turned to An. His glare softened, and he opened his arms, letting An fly to his chest. She buried her face inside of him, and when Ryoma caught a glimpse of her face, she looked like she was about to cry.

Momo's arms tightened, and his fingers ran through her hair. "Yo, An, s'okay."

"I didn't get a single point," An whispered. "And he looked so angry at me. Like he wanted to hurt me."

"I don't – " Momo shifted uncomfortably, and cuddled the girl closer to him. "I don't know why."

Having seen enough, Ryoma scoffed, and turned on his heel towards the exit of the park. His stomach twisted with something that tasted like guilt, but he kept moving forward, ignoring Momo's calls from the distance. The entire walk home, the guilt dug deeper, until it was a constant gnawing in his gut. Why had he played so ruthlessly?

And knowing his face, she probably thought he had become evil or something. Ryoma swallowed the lump in his throat, and rubbed at his eyes that were _not _wet. Momo probably hated him now.

Ryoma walked into the doors of his house. Fresh air conditioning hit his face, and he quickly maneuvered to the staircase. He noticed his father was sulking in the kitchen, and his mother was in the other room, eyes red and puffy. His world was such a mess. In his room, Ryoma threw himself on the bed, and hugged Karupin to his chest.

For some odd reason, he didn't feel like drawing An's face on a tennis ball and whacking it at the wall anymore. He curled further under the blankets.

He just wanted Momo.

**=][=**

The next day, Momo and Ryoma ignored each other.

Ryoma had tried his best to avoid the older boy, even going late to first period so they wouldn't have to bike together. Momo didn't make an effort to see him either, and they ended up not bumping into each other for the whole of the morning. He skipped tennis practice, too. He snuck out the back way, but didn't miss the glimpse of Momo introducing An to the team.

Yeah, he probably was going to get kicked off. And females would suddenly be on the team. An would become the new buchou.

Ryoma growled, but the anger was half-hearted. He kicked at the ground. The sun was bright and hot in the air, too sunny for his gloomy thoughts. The sidewalk was slick with shine, and Ryoma wiped his forehead for the umpteenth time. Maybe he should go to Antarctica and live with the polar bears, where they were no An's and no Momo's.

Although no Momo would be bad. But Momo was probably going to hate him for the rest of his life anyway.

"Echizen."

Ryoma halted. His shoulders tensed, and Momo came up next to him.

"Hey," Momo said.

Ryoma swallowed. "Hey."

"Skipping practice?" Momo teased, but his voice was stiff. Ryoma shrugged, and tried to walk faster, but Momo clamped a hand on his shoulder and stopped him. The twelve-year old gulped, and tilted his head so it was facing Momo's. His eyebrows shot up when he realized the purple eyes were soft, and not filled with ire.

"Yeah?" he asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet.

Momo's face said the single word. "_Why_?"

When Ryoma didn't say anything, he hesitantly reached his hand out, and ruffled the boy's hair. Ryoma swallowed at the touch, but leaned in, knowing Momo was trying to smooth things out between them. Even though it was all his fault. Even though he should have been the one trying to make things better.

"I don't know," Ryoma shrugged again. He didn't know what else to do.

Momo was silent. "An was really upset afterwards."

Ryoma didn't know what to say to that either, so he shrugged for the third time. He kept his face impassive as he stepped forward and started to walk. Momo followed after him, footsteps noisy, arm brushing Ryoma's. Ryoma didn't know why Momo wasn't yelling at him, or beating the crap out of him, but maybe he was overreacting. An was fine. He hadn't _done _anything to her.

"Geez," Momo finally said. "Say _something._"

Ryoma glanced up. "Sorry?" he offered. The word left a sour taste in his mouth.

Momo ran his fingers through his hair, and bit his lip. "This is pointless. Okay, okay, you're forgiven," he cracked a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I mean, it's okay. You didn't really do anything, and… well, like I said before, bros before gals, right?"

Ryoma just stared at him, and shifted. "Oh. Okay."

The stiff silence continued.

Ryoma could hear Momo inhaling and exhaling, taking deep breaths, fidgeting – preparing to say something big. They walked by the nearby plaza, glad for the sound of rushing cars to fill the void of silence. Ryoma realized that the direction that they were walking led to the Burger shop. He swallowed, and his heart tingled.

"Wanna head for burgers?" Momo said, so quietly Ryoma just caught the words.

The request was heavenly. "Yeah," Ryoma found himself nodding. Momo grinned at him again, and this time, his eyes lit up too. Ryoma tentatively smiled back, and they started to walk faster. In a matter of seconds, Momo's loud voice filled his ears as the boy started to chatter about this and that. Ryoma relaxed.

When the Burger Shop came into view, he grabbed Momo's hand. And even though Momo had a girlfriend and was completely straight, he understood Ryoma, and didn't let go.


End file.
